The Good Humor Man
by Kristen Bays
Summary: COMPLETE! While on patrol, Officers Amy Rohbach and Richard Grayson run across the Clown Prince of Crime. The shoot out that ensues leaves one dead, one injured, one healed, and one back from the grave.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Gah, hates me! Uhm... Sorry to people getting Author Alerts, I made the mistake of trying to add chapter 2 before putting on any notes in the Documents section, then when I went to delete it, deleted the first chapter instead. Evil! This fic was done for my LJ friend AngelGidget, who posted two fic prompts: Joker goes to Bludhaven and is shot by Officer Grayson and Amy Rohrbach overhears a conversation between her partner and the legendary Batman. So far this story is in 3 parts. Please review!

It was dark as midnight, even though it was only 8 and the summer sun was just starting to set. The air had been sweltering, but once the storm had rolled in, sheets of ran gave the evening an eerie chill. Of course, that chill might have had less to do with the rain than it did the situation Officer Dick Grayson had found himself in.

He and his partner on the Blüdhaven PD, Amy Rohrbach, had pulled over to investigate a Good Humor van parked illegally in an alleyway. Normally they would have ignored it, but there had been reports lately of drug dealers working out of ice cream trucks. The van was deserted, from the looks of things, but they could hear the engine clicking as it cooled down. Something about the whole situation was making the hair stand up on the back of Dick's neck. Rohrbach must have felt the same, because she had her hand on her holster as she stepped up into the truck.

Dick looked around the alleyway for any sign of the driver, but couldn't see one. "Holy Effing Christ… Hey, Rookie…" Amy's voice came from the van. "Look at this…"

Dick waited for her to step out of the van, noting the pale, slightly green tone her skin had taken on. He stepped into the van and almost immediately saw what had shaken his normally unflappable partner. A man, roughly mid twenties, had been stuffed into the ice cream freezer. His body was giving off a faint steam; it hadn't been dead long. The uniform identified the body as the Good Humor man. It was his face that identified the cause of death and made Dick's blood run cold: eyes crinkled in pain and mirth, lips drawn back in an over wide, teeth-bearing, grotesque rictus of a smile. Dick didn't need the Medical Examiner that he could hear Rohrback calling over the squad car radio to tell him that this man died of asphyxiation caused by exposure to The Joker's laughing gas. It was a COD Dick had seen far too many times.

Moving quickly, Dick looked into the front seat of the van for any clue to the clown's whereabouts. He covered his hand with a bit of his shirt and pressed it into the drivers seat. Still warm. The Joker couldn't have gone far. He started to turn back out of the van when he heard the last voice he wanted to ever hear in Blüdhaven.

"Well, well… Would you look at this? I take a two second break and suddenly everyone wants an Atro-pop from the Good Humor man." Dick felt his skin crawl and his stomach drop into his groin at the sound of that voice. He made it to the van's back door just in time to see Amy spin around, pulling her gun from it's holster. She wasn't fast enough.

A gunshot cracked like thunder and Dick watched in horror as Amy fell back against the patrol and slid to the ground leaving a smear of crimson along the door and side fender. "Sorry, Kiddo…" Joker said in a sinister tone, "All sold out."

Dick could have though about how he'd just watched the Joker take down another person dear to him; First Jason, who he had barely gotten to know, the Barbara, who he loved with all his soul, now Amy, the one person at Blüdhaven PD who he truly gave a damn about. He could have thought about how he was probably about to die, because the Joker had just spotted him and Dick could distantly hear the monster saying something about 'nosy piggies'. He could have thought about the 15 different ways he could duck, dodge, or otherwise attack the Joker. He could have thought about how this must be what life feels like to speedsters, because in that moment time seemed to have stopped.

Instead he didn't think. He had never been one to think before acting. He was motion and movement and always had been. But for once, the movements were not that of Dicky Grayson, Acrobat or Robin, Boy Wonder or Nightwing, Protégé of the Batman. They were the movements of Officer Richard Grayson of the Blüdhaven PD. Dick didn't know when he'd pulled his gun from it's holster, but before he had a chance to feel the sting of the Joker's own bullet pass through his shoulder he had pulled the trigger.

Bang. Bang. Bangbangbang. Bang!

The Clown Prince of Crime didn't laugh. He didn't smile. He looked dumbly down at his own chest, six little rosettes of blood blossoming against his purple suit. He let out what might have been a "ha" before falling forward onto the pavement, rain washing his blood into the gutter.

Dick stumbled out of the van, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and numbness in his arm. He knelt by Amy and felt for a pulse. Thready, but there. And she was breathing, though unconscious. He reached up into the patrol car and pulled out the radio unit's receiver,

"Officer down, Alley off Land Ave between Grayson and Dixon. Send immediate back up. The Joker…"

He could already hear sirens, probably responding to Amy's call and the sun of gunshots.

Dick let go of the radio and turned his attention to Amy. He found himself praying in every language he knew, English, Romany, Japanese, Spanish, Tamaranian… and to any god he thought might listen that Amy wouldn't become one more in the long list of the Joker's victims. He very gently moved her so he could apply better pressure to the wound in her side and began CPR.

When the 4 back up squad cars and paramedics showed up on the scene did Dick finally let up on the relentless 2/30 count mantra of CPR. One of the paramedics looked at him in concern, "Hey, Grayson… you're bleeding."

"Yeah… Got clipped. Kinda hurts…." Was all Dick managed to get out before succumbing to shock.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Aha! Chapter 2! Not so much action, but lots of gleeeee. And Batman being human. Before you go blasting me for giving Bats emotions: I know that pre-Infinite Crisis Batman (The Batman from the era this fic takes place in) is a dark and emotionless thing, even to his own sons. This, in my opinion, is because of Jason Todd's death and his inability to kill the Joker. With the Joker gone, a weight has been lifted and we get this chapter. As always, Please read and review and rec!!

"….-ews this evening, the Blüdhaven Police are reporting that vandals broke into the Blüdhaven City Morgue some time early this morning. The breach in security has Blüdhaven Police baffled, as an inside source has disclosed that the perpetrators left no evidence of their incursion, with the exception of one defiled corpse. The body of the Joker, the infamous Gotham City serial killer who was killed in a shoot out with Blüdhaven PD 3 days ago, was found beaten severely with a crow bar. In an odd twist, The Blüdhaven Medical Examiner has stated he will need to perform a second autopsy to discover exactly how much damage was done.

"Police have no leads in the case, but when questioned, a police representative, who asked to remain anonymous, stated that given the Joker's track record, 'it certainly could not hurt to make sure he was dead.'." The blond reporter on the news turned to her fellow anchor, "I bet there are many people in Blüdhaven and Gotham who wouldn't mind getting a little revenge against that madman."

"Too right, Susan." The male anchor agreed vapidly.

If Amy wasn't intubated with a respirator in her mouth, she would have smiled. What a pleasant thing to wake up to. She had thought, at first, that she must have died. She couldn't remember ever being so scared as she was the moment she turned around to see that terrible smile behind the gun barrel aimed at her chest. She vaguely remembered hearing other shots and a body hitting the pavement before passing out.

However, waking up to the sound of medical monitors beeping around her and the news reporting an apparently double dead Joker was nice. It meant she was alive. As she came more into consciousness, she could feel pain not quite dulled by medication. She must have been in surgery. She was alive. She had survived being shot by the Joker. The day was almost perfect… She just wanted to know what had happened to…

"As for the police officers credited for bringing the Joker to his final justice," The female anchor continued, "Officer Richard Grayson was released from St Kirby Memorial Hospital yesterday and his partner, Amy Rohrbach is out of surgery and listed in stable condition. The Staff of St Kirby's and the Blüdhaven PD ask well-wishers to please refrain from sending cards and gifts and ask if you would please make your comments on the web log set up for this occasion."

The camera clicked to the male reporter, "In related news, City councilman Chris Koppelberger has stated that plans are in the works for a parade in honor of—"

The TV clicked off and a disgusted noise sounded from Amy's left. She shifted her half lidded gaze down to see Dick sitting at her bedside. His arm was in a sling and he looked like someone just told him his puppy died, not like someone who just brought down the worst serial killer in American history. She was going to raise her hand up to get his attention, but he spoke suddenly in a harsh tone, "This is where you've come to tell me off, isn't it."

Amy was confused at first, but a deep, gravely voice spoke from the shadows near the window, "How is your partner?"

Amy found the continued vehemence from her usually sweet-natured partner surprising. "Are you asking because you care or because you're making small talk? 'Cause both those options make me want to look for the Starro on your neck."

"Dick.." the voice began, but it was softer than before.

"Just save it, Bruce. I don't want to hear it. I know you've never liked me carrying a gun, but I was on patrol as Officer Grayson. Not Nightwing. Sure as hell not Robin. Not anyone under your control." The 'Bruce' remark rang a bell in Amy's mind; she knew dick had been adopted by Bruce Wayne. But, the line about Nightwing and Robin threw her for a loop. What would Bruce Wayne have to do with Batman's sidekick and Blüdhaven's own Dark Knight?

"And no, I'm not happy with the fact I had to shoot. I wish I didn't have to, but I had no other choice. I know this one act does not make me a hero, but I am not going to apologize. Not for the Joker. Not for the one Rouge who should have been put down years ago before he could hurt Jason or Barbara or Sarah Essen or anyone else. If anyone deserved to die, it was him." Dick sounded so serious it was scary. He really knew that many people killed by the Joker?

Amy had to focus to keep her heart beat steady, or else they would know she was listening in.

"Dick, listen…" She could see the shadow shift. Since when did Bruce Wayne skulk in shadows?

"No, you know what? Fire me. Go ahead. Cut my funding. Lean on the Titans to boot me. Tell Clark and J'onn to drop my name from the League reserve roster. I'll go get my suits and equipment to you right now if you want. I don't really ca—."

"Thank you." Amy took in a sharp breath as the shadow stepped into the light. Of course, that might have just been the ventilator's doing, but still. The Batman was in her hospital room.

The Goddamned Batman.

Amy's brain skipped a neuron firing before churning into overdrive. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Makes sense, in a weird way, she supposed. It would take an eccentric billionaire to run around in tights with pointy ears. But Dick… Dick, Grayson, Rookie…. He was Nightwing.

Suddenly, many things that had nagged at the corners of Amy's mind fell into place. That was why whenever she and Dick had a case slip through the cracks, Nightwing would always pick it up. That was why Dick was so upset now. Superheroes weren't supposed to kill.

"--re… What?" From the sound of Dick's voice, Batman's thanks had thrown the young man for just as much of a loop as this whole conversation had thrown Amy.

"After Jason… I wanted so badly to kill him." Batman said, with a hitch in his throat, "It was all Clark could do to stop me. I thought bringing him to justice would help…"

He paused, as if collecting himself, "Then he went after Barbara and Jim and I wanted to kill him all over again. I wanted to strangle the life out of him with my bare hands. But… I knew if I did it… I could never go back to this." He tapped the symbol on his chest, "I'd become just another vigilante."

The Batman's voice dropped into a sad, human tone. And while Amy could not make out his features, she could clearly see the shock on Dick's face.

"But you're right… Jim was right on the last day of the No Man's Land… No amount of time in a psychiatric ward or in the justice system was ever going to atone for all the horrors he wrought upon us, on this team, let alone the world at large. You did the thing I could never do, in the one way that I could never operate. You did not kill him for revenge or for your own gain. You were protecting your self and your partner. He made you choose and… And you made the right decision. I can't fault you for that."

Dick's mouth was hanging open, "But… I killed a man. I shot him. I vowed never to and..."

"You were operating within the guidelines of proper use of a weapon as designated by every single police agency in the world." Batman paused, "I… am not good with this kind of thing. You know that… But… When Bruce Wayne got the call that you were here after being shot by the Joker… I had not felt that feeling since I held Jason in my arms for the last time… I thought I had lost you too…"

"But… But you didn't call… You didn't come see me… I thought you were angry. That I had broken the oath…" Dick could not find words. "You're not…?"

"I may not be your father, but you are my son. You did not kill a man, you slew a monster. You did not break your vow. And you are a hero.

"My hero."

There was silence in the room, save for the beep of heart monitors. Amy could feel a hot tear run down her cheek.

After a long minute, Dick spoke, his voice sounding shaky, "…Alfred made you say this, didn't he?"

The Batman… smiled for lack of a better term. Amy could see the corners of his mouth tug in the dim light, "The words and emotions behind them are mine, but, yes… Alfred did tell me that if I didn't come here and tell you these things he'd quit again."

This time it was Dick's turn to smile, and it broke onto his face like a ray of sunlight through a cloudy sky, "Good old Alfred…" He paused, his face falling into a sincere look, "Bruce… T-thanks. I know how hard that was… And… I needed to hear it. From someone other than the media and my commanding officers. I needed to hear it from you…"

There was a scraping sound across the room; the Batman had stepped back into the shadow, "Alfred also said for you to stay the weekend at the manor. I don't think it was a request. He invited Barbara and Tim as well… He thinks we need…" He paused, like he didn't know how to word what it was they needed.

Dick, however, finished the sentence. "We're not going to celebrate his death. We're going to remember Jason's life."

The Batman said nothing, but Amy could tell from Dick's face that the Dark Knight had agreed. And just like that, he was gone. She watched Dick stand and walk across the room to slide the window shut again.

Amy could hardly believe what she had heard. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Her own partner was Nightwing. And…

And she was OK with that. Because they were more… they were father and son… they were human.

She had always thought that kind of knowledge would eat at her, but now, having witnessed the two superheroes at their rawest and most vulnerable… She felt honored to keep the secret. It was the least she could do.

She thought about catching Dick's attention, but decided against it. Instead, she kept still and her eyes closed. After a while. She heard a nurse enter the room and shoo Dick away.

But it was ok, she knew he'd be back.

She was alive. They were alive. That was all that mattered.


	3. Chapter 3: Epilouge

Epilouge

Dick did spend the weekend with his family. Alfred made Bruce call Catwoman, Black Canary, and Huntress to cover the streets so they could all have a well deserved break. And it was surprisingly nice. With Joker gone, something had changed in Bruce. He was… less like Batman and more like himself. During a 'Robins Only' discussion on the change in their mentor's personality, where in the reasons grew more and more preposterous as the evening wore on, Tim had joked that some scary middle-eastern Bat-God had possessed Bruce when he found out the Joker had killed Jason Todd.

Dick thought there might have been more of a ring of truth to that statement than either of them would have cared to admit. Bruce was acting in a way that he hadn't been since long before Jason died, though. He was acting the way he did when Dick was a kid… younger than Tim. When he was still Robin and the Joker had not yet shot him causing Bruce to close up the first time. For the first time in a very long time, Wayne Manor felt like home. Felt like family.

And even though they weren't openly saying they were glad Joker was dead, or that it was Dick who had killed him, Barbara did thank him, in an entirely non verbal way. An entirely nonverbal way that made them both late to breakfast every morning of the weekend.

Dick also had a number of visitors of the cape and cowl kind over the weekend, much to Bruce's chagrin. Clark, Wally, Donna, Roy, Garth, Dinah, and in the strangest twist of all Oliver Queen (though he was probably just there because of Dinah) all stopped by the Manor to see how Dick was holding up, and most of them had been bullied by Alfred to stay for at least tea if not a full meal. Dick thought Alfred was enjoying having a full house, and Bruce didn't grumble too much out loud. In all, it was a very good weekend. A weekend the whole Bat-Clan needed, and Dick felt that some old wounds were finally beginning to heal.

It was six weeks before Lt Rohrbach returned to work. Her recovery time was shorter than most expected, but most of the impact of the bullet had been absorbed by the Kevlar vest she had been wearing beneath her clothes. As result, she suffered minimal damage to internal organs. That, coupled with the fact she complained she was "Going ape-shit crazy" stuck at home, and with the fact that both she and Dick had been promoted to detective for their heroics meant Amy could go on light duty.

Dick was infinitely glad to have her back. It meant his life could resume it's normal pace, rather than being paraded about like he was the Savior reborn. And while a small part of him missed being a beat cop, it was a very small part. And it was dwarfed by the part that was excited about being an actual, honest to god detective.

He and Amy had spoken briefly about what had happened. Amy thanked him. He said 'you would have done the same for me'. She agreed. That was the end of it. They both knew that what had to be done was done. In the end, it hadn't mattered to Amy who it was that had attacked them, but that they had gotten through the situation ok. She occasionally gave him a strange, mothering look or two, and once asked how his family was doing. He said 'fine', of course, but he still thought it strange because she'd never asked about his family in that kind of way before.

They were sitting at their new desks on their first official day as detectives when they got a call to accompany the CSI unit to a homicide on the east side of town. Dick was surprised when they arrived to find Roland Desmond, AKA Blockbuster, with his head removed and propped on top of a stack of boxes marked 'For BPD'. Blockbuster was the major syndicate leader in Blüdhaven, and Nightwing hand tangled with him on many occasions, but the crime lord had evaded arrest every time. Like most top guys, he was bullet proof when it came to prosecution; no one could get enough evidence that he was the one in charge.

Dick's first thought was that this must be some kind of mob hit. A dead horse head in the bed type thing. There were bound to be people in other organizations, or even in Blockbuster's own, who wanted to see him dead or wanted to take his spot. However, after the medical examiner finished the field processing on the head, they found something interesting. "Detectives, I think I've found something…"

Dick and Rohrbach walked over, carefully taking a small zip top bag from the ME. It was covered in blood from where it had been, directly under Blockbuster's neck. No one had seen it earlier because it's placement hid it completely. Dick held the envelope in a latex gloved hand while Rohrbach used a set of forceps to pull loose the bag's contents.

Her eyes scanned the note and widened. When she spoke, she sounded like she'd seen a ghost. "Grayson… I think you need to see this…"

Dick moved to stand behind her so he could look over her shoulder. The note that was in the bag was small, the paper plain white, but he could make out a faint water mark. The writing was small and messy, a little child like, and strangely familiar. It was what the note said that was remarkable, though:

"_Wingster-_

_This guy's been tailing you for a few months. Knows about your HQ, job, family, and was making plans to out you or exploit you or something. You know these guys, they find out your identity and think they're kings of the world._

_I took the liberty of making sure he wouldn't bother you. In the boxes you'll find evidence on his business dealings; drugs, sex, protection rackets, you name it I got it. Got a few names too. If you have trouble getting the PD to prosecute, I'm sure you can just leak it to the press._

_I figured this makes us a little closer to square. Sure, this fucker's no Clown, but it was the best I could do on such short notice. I know you were pretty pissed when you got back from Space, and now you've done this? You might just be the best big brother ever."_

The note wasn't signed, but Dick didn't need for it to be. He felt his fists ball up, his teeth grit, as white hot anger flared through him. What kind of sick joke was this?

"Mmm… Who would leave a note for Nightwing like this?" Rohrbach asked out loud.

Dick didn't mean to growl as he spoke, "I don't know…"

"Yes you do." She said slyly. She looked over at him, a serious and.. knowing look on her face. Shit. When had she found out?

"They want us to think it's a dead man. Someone who's been dead for nearly 5 years." He chewed the inside of his cheek. This was a very serious situation. First the Hush incident, now this. It couldn't possibly be the Riddler again? Would he really use the same puzzle twice? It wasn't like him…

"And you're sure the writer is dead?" Rohrbach asked, putting the note back into the bag and then into an evidence bag so they could process it further.

"I wasn't there for the funeral, but I have it on good authority."

And then Dick remembered… After the Hush incident… Bruce had Jason's body exhumed and the casket was empty, a hole crudely made in the lid, trace elements of blood and fingernail found embedded in the fibers of the lining.

Was Jason really alive? Dick looked over the letter again. He needed Bruce to look at it… Bruce… Zatanna… No.. Dr Fate. Was Dr Fate even alive still? This was some serious next level shit. How was he going to tell Bruce?

And further more, how did Amy know Dick would know?

She was pursing her lips some, thinking. Dick opened his mouth to say… he wasn't sure what. To ask how she knew he'd know? To ask how much she knew? But she stopped him, "I'm sure you'll let Nightwing know? Maybe he can use his Gotham contacts to see if we have an imposter or one of those 12-coffee-night weird fests on our hands. I expect to be kept in the loop, though."

"Amy… how…"

"You know, for a secretive as certain people are renowned to be, they sure do underestimate people in hospital beds…"

Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! She had been awake when Bruce had come to see him. She'd heard everything. God, he felt dumb. He knew they should have taken it up onto the roof.

"It's ok, though," she said in a casual way, "Doesn't change a damned thing."

Dick frowned at her, "You're sure?"

"Positive." She said, and she flashed him a smile and patted his cheek like a small child, "Now, lets find our ghost so we can thank him for getting rid of Desmond."

THE END

A/N: Thanks for reading! That's all for now. I had some people ask me to continue in this universe, and I might do so, but only after I've moved and settled into my new home in Boston next week. Wish me luck!


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